To Sell and To Save
by Tails for Fairies
Summary: [One Shot] Lucy could not let him die for he was her friend. The dead did not have to stay dead, and all was not lost. But what, however, was the price for such a thing? Because surely, necromancy is not such a small thing. Nor is it to birth a creature as powerful as a Celestial Spirit. There is one who would ask that question, a man who can see the toll on her soul.


**_Well, this is something Lady Red has thrown together after the past few chapters. Because she refuses to allow Gajeel to be dead._**

* * *

There is little to say about the atmosphere that ruled in the desecrated manor house, the one that the Guilds were calling their home in the aftermath of the Demon War, other than it was swarmed with a suffocatingly bitter silence. The heavy hop scent of quick-brew mead permeated the pungent smell of drying blood, vomit, and urine that the Guild soldiers carried in from the battlefields. From the tombs. There was no chatter to be made on that day, nor any day in the previous week where all had drowned in sorrow. Some stared pensively out of the grand, archaic windows that adorned the walls of the manor house, vilely envious of the birds on the other side who still sung their daily songs.

The spouses that owned the manor house were bearing the title of 'Count', and in the time the Guilds would be taking refuge in their residence, the couple were moved to the Palace in Crocus, the Princess a gracious host as she graced the soldiers who need their time to recuperate with the solitude they so richly deserved.

But that silence, as hazy as it was, had to be broken. Lucy Heartphilia and Solano Aguria tumbled through the doors, almost giddy though still covered in the remnants of a gruesome battle, "Goodness, well aren't we just a sorry bunch," Solano laughed, chest heaving with a laugh that did not quite reach her eyes. The woman was quick to bound over to where Crime Sorcière sat, her Teammates welcoming her with silence tankards of the filth they had brewed in her absence. "You'd almost think we were all dead," The words came half bitterly from her tongue, hearts around her hardening as they returned to nursing their woes.

Lucy remained in the doorway, fingers playing with the leather thong that held her Keys to her belt, eyes lurking beyond the shadows to find the woman she searched for, "Levy," Lucy breathed, loud enough in the silence that the tear-stained woman looked to see her, "We have a gift for you," The words were tentative, her feet shuffling forward to hold Levy's attention, the Exceed by the woman's side curling his tail just a little tighter, "It's something special, do you want it?" The question was slow, and Levy unwound herself from Pantherlily's grasp in order to see what Lucy wanted, her heart black as the darkness that swallowed it, "Good," The smile erupted on Lucy's face, and the room was held rapt as she removed a Key from her belt. It's skin a dark ochre colour, almost coal, the symbol on it the shape of an iron crown. Magic seemed to flood the room, the golden sparks dancing on the skin of those it touched, heating their hearts and calming their ailments. "Open! Gate of The Black King!" Lucy's voice resonated in the souls of those who listened, the manor house shaking the force of the summoning, "Gajeel Redfox!"

And suddenly, there he was. The bones were sharper, the eyes redder, hair longer, and the skin darker. But the figure that appeared from Lucy's Magic was undeniably Gajeel, body adorned in furs and black jewels in quantity enough for a king. Iron armour hiding his torso, protecting that which he cool lose. But most proudly, most distinguishable, upon his head sat an iron crown, a single amber gem embedded in the iron between his eyes, as though protecting him from harm. The teeth that sat in his mouth were sharp and pearly, the muscles of his face contracting into a smile to please the woman who seemed to throw herself from where she was huddled in the darkness.

"Gajeel," Was all she said, stumbling carelessly into his arms one she reached him. It was all anyone said, though there seemed hope eternal on their faces at the prospect that they had not lost all. It was all that needed saying. Pantherlily was the only other to approach, hand sporadically clenching as he gently reached out and pushed against the bare skin of Gajeel's bicep, and the Exceed collapsed to the ground with relief and tears at the return of his partner.

"I know, Levy," Gajeel pawed a rough hand through the woman's hair, the other pulling her flush to his stomach so he could pepper her head with kisses, "Here I am. That bugger couldn't kill me."

"I asked the Sprit King for a favour," Lucy clasped her hands together, lips pressed in a suppression of a smile, "And the old man just couldn't refuse," There was a bitter chuckle from Solano, the woman hiding her face in a tankard, red-rimmed eyes watching the murky substance move within her cup, "We could," Lucy gave the girl a disapproving look, Solano raising her hands in defeat and returning to nursing the Gods-awful mead that had been brewed, gulping down without stopping to feel the burn, "Have you turned as well," Lucy's tongue was quick when it darted across her lips, eyes almost analytical as she eyed the woman whose love had come again, "The Spirit Realm has need of a 'Blue Archive'," Lucy turned that gaze to Pantherlily, but saw him return the look so smiled and closed her eyes, "And a 'Stolen Warrior', of course."

"Lu," Levy pushed herself from Gajeel's arms, rushing forward with realisation on her face as she collapsed into Lucy's waiting arms, clinging to the woman's dirtied clothing and tears and mucus further ruining the fabric, "Thank you," The words were repeated, progressively becoming more choked and disastrous, "Thank you," Levy managed one last time before returning to Gajeel.

"Not a problem at all," Lucy was glad as she watched Levy cry, planning when and where to carry out the ceremony for removing the woman to another realm, "Only the best for my friends," Lucy continued talking, averting her eyes as Gajeel kissed Levy, his cloak swarming the petite woman in his arms, "Now you can live your lives together, forever, and have those children you oh so fondly dreamt of," With a wink of an umber eye, Lucy moved towards the 'bar' that had been established at one wall, leaving two very flushed lovers behind, "Goodness, I am so thirsty," As she walked, Lucy returned the newly forged Key to her belt, her senses assaulted with the scent of the home-brew that was awaiting her, "And I guess second rate mead will have to do!"

"Cosplayer!"

Lucy did not reply to the man immediately, turning and watching as he stood from his table, unable to know his thoughts as he hid them beneath his helmet, "Yes, Bickslow?" And when they did come the words were full of caution, uncertain as to why this man broke the silence.

"Are you," Bickslow breathed deeply moving close to Lucy in her statue-esk position, his voice low and unsure, "Are you all right?"

Lucy's brow flickered with creases, before her eyes narrowed, "Relatively so, given the circumstances," Blonde hair swished over her shoulder as her head tilted, a thousand ideas appearing in her mind as to what the man was after, "How come?"

It seemed, several times in fact, that Bickslow stumbled over his words in an effort to form the question that so obviously hounded him with its morbid nature, "What was the cost, Cosplayer?" Bickslow's shoulders tightened as he crossed his arms across his chest, and for a moment Lucy fantasised about his chestal cavity caving in, "What did you sell?"

For a moment her face hardened, and Bickslow swore he saw hate shimmer across the glazing lenses of her almost umber eyes, but this did not last long as she softened her features: aware that all were looking upon them now, curious as to what their Seith Mage was asking, "I," The muscles around the girl's mouth twitched, voice halting, as though Lucy were preventing a smile from blooming on her Cupid lips, blood and mud still caked there as though a failed layer of make-up, "I'm not entirely sure," Lucy swallowed her saliva, her eyes not reaching his own beneath the mask, as she seemed to refuse to look at him, "What it is that you mean," There was a question in her eyes, a poise to her shoulders that almost seemed like a threat. And Bickslow was almost tempted to let it be.

"You know what I mean, Cosplayer," Bickslow hissed, pulling the entirety of his helmet from his scalp, hair mussed as his eyes pulsed and looked to a spot on Lucy's throat. Sting watched as the helmet rolled close to his feet, head having twitched awake when the metal struck the stone and Yukino's hand tightened on his forearm, "I can see your soul," The longer he spoke, the more Lucy felt her skin pale and body cool. The longer he spoke, the more Lucy wished he would stop, "And a part of it is missing," Bringing his hand up, Bickslow could not stop himself from running the back of his hand over the side of her porcelain throat, "Please, don't walk away from this," He muttered, malice fixed in his consciousness as to how eager she was to run away from whatever it was that she had done, "Lucy!" Bickslow's calling of her name had been enough to make her stall when she began to back away, enough to stop the other's from interfering with his search for knowledge in the woman who would not share, "What is the cost?" The words were thick on Bickslow's tongue, the muscle almost seeming to have swollen with blood as he panicked at the sight of her broken, fraying soul, "Of bringing someone back from the dead," Bickslow wrapped a hand around her elbow, forcing her to stay close to him as he asked, "Of sealing their soul in the Spirit Realm."

And Lucy wished he was dead, as although she knew he was just concerned for her wellbeing, she had asked that he leave it be, "There," There was the harsh rumbling sound of mucus being sucked up someone's' nose that made Lucy want to gag, if not for the hate that boiled within her as she locked eyes with the Seith Mage who looked so utterly pathetic whilst he stared into her soul, "There is always a cost to things, Bickslow," Once again, Lucy licked her lips, their skin peeling under the mud, "A simple give and take," Lucy slowly slid her arm from his hold, brow furrowing as she tried her best to convince him that it was nothing, "I-ugh-it," For a while, Lucy tumbled over what to say, fingers wrung and the woman had to stop herself in order to breathe, "It does not matter," Lucy straightened her shoulders, "Only know that it is a price I willingly paid to bring my friend back from where he did not belong," Lucy glanced to Gajeel, the man watching her carefully as he held a worried Levy in his arms, "Stupid, vile, and arrogant though he is," A chuckled bounced on the back of her throat, eyes locked on a loose tile on the floor. Hoping, praying, that he would ask no more of her.

Bickslow brought his hand to her chin, turning her head to look at him, "What is the price, Lucy?"

And Lucy never had the chance to dismiss him, Solano answering from where she sat with Erik's arm draped around her neck, "A small part of your lifespan," The woman gulped what was left of Erik's cup.

"Though never more than ten years," Lucy looked up to the ceiling, the words coming quick as she shoulders fell, her tone broken and desperate.

"Not unless you bring someone back from the dead, that is," Solano snorted, though something in her own heart hardened, aware of all that she had lost. The Pitch reminding her of what she sold.

"A piece of your soul," Lucy brought her hand to her neck before Bickslow could, the chipped edges of her nails leaving welts in the wake.

"Though never more than a thimble full, of course," Solano shuffled, throwing her legs over the end of the table and whistling a little ditty that the birds seemed to echo, "Any more would be a preposterous amount."

"Unless you bring someone back from the dead," Lucy laughed, running her broken, bloody nail up her arms in order to try and stave away the stares.

"And?" Makarov asked, tankard forgotten on the table before him as he watched his children despair.

"And," Solano looked to the Guild Master, eyes iced with Magic, her consciousness seemingly in another place, "A memory."

"But never more than two," Lucy's voice was pleading, on the edge of tears.

"Unless," Bickslow swallowed thickly, backing away from Lucy, flinching when his feet brushed against someone else's, the Guild soldier unwavering in her stare at Lucy, "Unless you bring someone back from the dead," The Seith Mage turned to Gajeel, the Slayer-turned-Spirit also distressed at the news, "Oh, Cosplayer," Bickslow reached to touch her cheek, but when she moved he let his hand fall, "Oh, Lucy, how could you do that?" Bickslow did not have it in himself to care that his voice was breaking, that his eyes were pulsing with Magic and tears, "You say willingly bu-"

Solano laughed, voice carefree as she danced across the floor to shuffle herself onto the window sill, pushing open the panes of glass to allow fresh air into the stuffy room, "She's fine!" The woman waved her hand as her hand was waved above her head, the mead seemingly having passed straight to her head, "She had me - Lucy's always had me to help her, to keep her from selling too much of herself," Solano fluttered her eyelashes, pushing into the alcove the sat beneath the window with a resounding sound of flesh on marble, "We worked together to bring that sorry sod back," Solano waved a limp hand in Gajeel's direction, "To turn him into 'The Black King'," The world seemed to roll with spice from the woman's tongue, a giddy, cruel smile burning hot in her skin.

"Lucy," Bickslow tried to move closer to the girl, but when she raised her palms flatly he halted his movement.

"It was a price I willingly paid, Bickslow, so do not fuss over it," The look in her umder eyes as she let her gaze settled around the room suggested that same went for everybody. Bickslow fell to his knees before her, choking back his tears as he looked at her, face contorting as though asking her to tell him it was a lie, "It does not mean as much as you make it seem," Lucy's voice was once more without care, eyes bright and skin flush as her face began to calm once more, "Ten years is just ten years," Lucy shrugged, head falling to the side, "So what if I die when I am ninety instead of a hundred?" Lucy's arms spread wide around her, her head spinning with the revolting smell that seemed pungent in the close quarters, "Who cares that my soul will be paid to the Spirit King as a prize? That I'll become 'The Dark Time', and Solano 'The Lily Wings'? I'll live immortally as a servant of the world I hold dear," Blonde hair was shaken, the movement hiding the shaking of her voice, "And a memory is just a memory," The voice that spoke was light, sporadic, happy almost, in its rising pitches, and that which she spoke almost seemed to be said with a tone that did not understand the sentiment, "It is feelings; pain, hurt, apathy, compassion, love," Lucy seemed quite content as she traced the outline of a predecessor of the current Count, trying to forget the hate the boiled so thickly in her stomach, "It is not fact," Lucy's smile faltered as Erza shifted from her table, "Not truly."

"We remember what we gave up," Solano tightened her fingers about her thighs, looking at the grass stains on her toes, "The facts of it," Her lip twitched, and her teeth captured it as a sentimental smile almost captured her mouth, "There is no emotional connection to what we forgot, only the knowledge that it did happen," As a ray of sunlight passed through the clouds, Solano closed her eyes, "It's good in a way, it allows us to be objective about things."

"The more potent the better," Bacchus allowed the words to pour from his lips, "I'd guess," The man's spine was straight, and face almost, knuckles white as they held a tankard hard against the table.

"Indeed," Solano allowed a smile to capture her face, placid in the face of secrets being guessed, "However," A shrew looked passed her momentarily, when she caught the look on Lucy's face - as though the girl was struggling to breath, lips parted and spittle falling from them as her hands pressed at the sides of her ribcage, "A price shared is a price halved."

"Solano," Sawyer began, but his voice betrayed him as it shivered, a thousand questions in his voice.

"I forgot the day that I was saved from the Tower," Solano answered, voice small and almost childish as she turned away from the room with downturned eyes, "I forgot the day that life began anew," She observed her nails, and the picked orange colour that was peeling away from their surfaces, "And I," Solano's paused for breath, chest shuddering with the force it took to draw in the air and stop herself from crying, "I forgot the day that I first met Lucy Heartphilia," Solano licked her lips, eyes glued to Lucy, and it seemed as though no one in the room would draw breath until she finished what she had given up, "First and last born descendant of the great Heartphilia Bloodline; first and last born descendant of Time Immemorial; first and last born descendant of the one who saved Zeref," The words came like a confession, Lucy turning her eyes up at the sudden revelation, "'She who bears The Darkest Will'," The words seemed rote learnt, as though it had been repeated a great many times, "I forgot what she did for me, when she reached her hands into the Pitch, and pulled my soul from the Everglades of the Forgotten," Silver hair flared on the ground, Magic thrumming through the air like confusion and bitterness, tears heavy in her voice and mucus thick enough that it stopped her words from fully forming, "I forgot how I sullied her," The words were cried, those who were listening flinching at their pitch and the tears that flowed freely from the woman who now cried on the floor.

"Bunny," Gajeel's voice shook, the tone deep and hot with anger, "Lucy what did you give up for me?"

"Nothing I wouldn't give up again," Lucy said, voice calm though she looked bedraggled.

"Lu, no," Levy shook her head, not caring that it hurt to push her skull against iron, "No, you can't do that for me," Levy reached a hand to Pantherlily, the Exceed taking it tightly as he seemed in shock at the proceeds, looking for a warrior's way to save the blonde woman, "For us."

"I can," Lucy said, eyes hard as she looked to Levy. Daring the woman to defy her, the words hissing from between her teeth, "I have, and I will do it again."

"What did you forget?" Gajeel asked once more, dropping Levy and stepping forward, one hand held out in a plea, "For me."

Lucy took a step back, "The day my mother died, and the funeral thereafter," The words came quickly, and Gajeel's face fell, aware of just how much the woman coveted her mother, and any memories of the woman, "I forgot the day that I saved my friends from Tartarus, the Books that my Bloodline fought to forge from the Time and the Darkness that blacken our sin," With a last, bitter smile, Lucy turned away from her friends, from their tears, with her arms wrapped as tight as they could around her abdomen, "And I forgot the day I came to Fairy Tail."


End file.
